


Retreat Interrupted

by Aicnerys



Series: Warp, Mend, Warp, Repeat [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 20:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17711066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aicnerys/pseuds/Aicnerys
Summary: Mairon goes on vacation. Melkor decides that he should go join him.Nothing goes wrong, unless you're Mairon.





	Retreat Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, after this, I gotta work on Twisted Up. But then, more Melkor/Mairon.

After the incident with his lord, Mairon avoided being alone with the Vala. He always managed to slip away or find some excuse to be in areas where either others were or Melkor wasn’t. He had been unnaturally anxious as of late, and when his body made it known that he would sleep, whether he wished to or not, he was haunted by dreams of what his lord had done that night.

Mairon spent most of his waking hours either working or down in the forges, surrounded by others. Never alone, for Melkor enjoyed watching him work in silence, as he didn’t dare be alone with his lord after what happened last time. At the moment, he was forging a blade, small and subtle, of dark metal and black stone. So engrossed was he in his creation that he failed to notice the approach of his lord until the Vala was leaning over him, breath tickling his neck. 

Mairon startled, grabbing the blade he had been working upon and swinging it towards the Vala. His lord caught his wrist easily.

“Little one, what is wrong?” His lord asked, his tone a careful construction of smooth sympathy and gentle concern. Mairon pulled back his hand sharply, setting the blade back on his workbench.

“Nothing, my lord.” Mairon said curtly, turning back to his work. The blade was fine, perfectly functional, but he wanted to make it so that the dark stone within could be sung into powerful enchantments.

“Then why do you avoid me so?” His lord responded. Mairon shrugged.

“I was not aware that I was avoiding you, my lord. I apologize if my current business has implied that.” He said evenly, smoothly stepping around the Vala. “However, once I have more time available, perhaps I shall see more of you.”

“Perhaps you shall.” Melkor said, pensive. Mairon bowed slightly to his lord and left quickly.

He was going to make sure that there was not even an inkling of freetime in his life from now on. Mairon refused to be close to his lord anymore. He had let him into his chambers reluctantly, assuming nothing would happen, but his tentative trust was betrayed. While he would serve the dark Vala, He Who Arises in Might, Mairon would not allow intimacy. 

Mairon wanted to leave Utumno, and he wished to do so as fast as he possibly could. He needed time away from the fortress, time to himself, where he didn’t have to worry about Melkor encroaching upon him. But before he could do so, he needed to set his affairs in order. So he summoned Thuringwethil, and bade her inform Melkor that he was elsewhere, but that should he be needed, Melkor had only send for him. Thuringwethil was curious, of course, but Mairon’s flat stare left no space for questioning. Annoyed at being treated as a messenger, the vampire took her sweet time meandering through Utumno. Mairon didn’t care, and turned into a crow and flew out the nearest window.

So outside of Utumno he went, flying on unnaturally swift wings past the cold, frigid mountains, to the green of a forest he called ‘his’, where he made a little retreat for himself when he’d first left Aule’s side. Recently he had been visiting the place less and less, which, at the time had not saddened him. However, now, after Melkor had forced himself upon Mairon, it was saddening to him.

~~~

In the forest that Mairon called his, he had shaped himself a cabin. It was a small, functional thing, made with the idea that Mairon would spend most of his time there, when not needed managing his lord’s plans, in seclusion, doing, for the most part, whatever he desired.

His cabin was situated on the shores of lake, which a waterfall fell into. Behind the waterfall was a cave and within the cave, a forge. The first thing Mairon did upon returning to this place was the forge. He inspected it in the way an artist inspects their tools and materials after a long absence from their studio: with a careful, practiced eye searching for anything to could possibly be amiss or out of order. Finding everything to be satisfactory, he returned to the cabin. Mairon was in the mood to sleep, finding the rush of the waterfall to be soothing, so he went to his bedroom and retired for the evening.

He dreamed of that night, with Melkor, only instead of ending, Mairon woke up as his lord readied to enter him again after spending himself. He was covered in a cold sweat after he’d woken, and instead of taking a bath as he would’ve in Utumno, he instead went to the lake and bathed there instead. The water was warm from the subterranean heat floating up from the forge, though not scalding. Mairon enjoyed the water, and was reluctant to leave when he finally decided to return to his cabin.

Once back inside his cabin, he debated what to do. Normally, he wouldn’t have even had time to consider such a thing, but he wasn’t in Utumno, with its endless scores of things that needed his attention.

He decided upon reading. His bookshelves here seemed almost under-stocked in comparison to Utumno. Mairon frowned, disturbed by the thought, and decided to wander the woods instead. He changed from his robes to a sturdy tunic and pants, then went back outside.

Taking a moment to enjoy the brisk morning air, he looked up at the sky before he turned into a wolf with a ruddy pelt and ran into the forest, savoring the sights and smells of it all.

~~~

When he had run out of places to wander through the woods, several weeks later, he returned to his cabin, when the evening’s shadows were long and deep.

He felt the presence of his lord within. Mairon shifted back into his preferred form, that of an elegant firstborn, with fair skin and light red-gold hair.

Mairon entered the cabin to Melkor relaxing in an armchair by the unlit fireplace, dark hair in curtains hiding and shadowing his face. His hands were steepled under his chin from what Mairon could tell.

“Mairon, come here.” The Vala said coldly. Mairon moved to stand before his lord and kneeled, head lowered, on the floor. He was grateful that the hardwood floor in this area had a rug so that he knees would not begin to ache.

“You’re avoiding me.” Melkor said, sighing. “Why?”

“I wished for time away from Utumno, my lord.” Mairon responded evenly. “Just as the last time we spoke can attest to, I was not and am still not avoiding you, my lord.” Melkor laughed, a cold and harsh thing to hear.

“Is that so?” He murmured, a pallid hand gripping Mairon’s chin and forcing his head upwards. “Is that really, truly so?”

The hand on his chin skittered up to become a fist in his hair, and Mairon instinctively tried to jerk back.

“No. No, stay.” Melkor crooned. “Don’t leave me, Mairon. I wish to know what troubles you.”

“It is nothing, my lord.” Mairon said, terse. Melkor laughed even as his fist in Mairon’s hair pulled harder and loosed more strands of hair.

“Don’t lie to me, little one.” Melkor whispered, and Mairon found it more frightening than if his lord had been arrayed in full might and spoken the same words.

“I do not wish to tell you, my lord.” Mairon said, trying once more to lead Melkor away from the incident.

“Very well then. I suppose I shall force you to, then.” Melkor replied, and he let go of Mairon’s hair with a rough shove, sending Mairon backwards onto the ground. Melkor fell on top of him and wrapped one hand around Mairon’s throat and squeezed. Mairon gasped and clawed at Melkor’s hand, struggling to get free.

“Why?” Melkor asked again, and Mairon simply closed his eyes. “I will not continue this should you choose to tell me why you have been avoiding me.”

“What would you do?” Mairon muttered. “What if I said it was something you did?” Melkor’s grip on his throat loosened.

“Me?” Melkor said, incredulous. “Ah, yes, then. But truly, it disturbed you that much?” Mairon laughed, hysterical. When he finally caught his breath, he opened his eyes to see Melkor above him, seeming disturbed.

“You raped me, and threatened to fuck me in the throne room of Utumno for all to see. Of course I am wounded, my lord.” Mairon said, far more composed than he felt.

“Oh. I didn’t think I would have affected you so.” Melkor mumbled, letting go of Mairon’s throat.

“That’s it?” Mairon snapped. “That’s all you have to say for yourself? Really?”

“I don’t exactly regret it.” Melkor said, a feral smile on his face. “I’m actually in the mood to do so again.”

“No.” Mairon responded quickly, hoping to nip that train of thought in the bud. “If you do so, I’ll return to Arda and the service of Aule or Manwe.” Melkor laughed indulgently.

“What makes you think they’d even see you before I found you and brought you back?” Melkor responded. 

Melkor, using one hand to hold the fabric of Mairon’s tunic still, ripped the shirt down the middle. Mairon snarled. That shirt was durable, comfortable, and he’d had it for centuries. He certainly did not appreciate Melkor destroying it.

But the he felt Melkor’s hands at the fastenings of his pants and his mind went completely blank. Numbly, he heard Melkor rip those too, before picking Mairon up and carrying him, naked, into the bedroom. He threw Mairon bodily onto the bed and then undressed himself, folding his dark robes neatly and placing them on top of the armoire.

Melkor then sat down on the bed and leaned over Mairon, running a hand down his chest, trailing over his peaked nipple. Mairon closed his eyes. Melkor did it again, perhaps expecting a reaction. Mairon didn’t really give one.

He felt Melkor’s lips meet his in a hungry, rough kiss, Melkor’s hands in his hair pulling Mairon close. Mairon’s arms remained limp by his sides, his body unresponsive to Melkor’s attentions. 

“If you don’t pay attention to me, Mairon, I will chain you by an arm to Utumno as a warning for others.” Melkor growled. Mairon opened his eyes and regarded Melkor with a blank stare. Melkor flipped him over, pushing him face-first into the bed. His arm was painfully trapped under him, making Mairon wince in pain. He gasped when he felt Melkor enter him with no preparation at all, the stretch and burn of it agonizing and unfamiliar. Mairon was not inclined to touch himself and, likewise, never sought out sexual encounters. 

He would’ve liked it to be something other than this, really, because he thought he could’ve liked it, if he’d chosen it.

Melkor set a harsh rhythm, his hands traveling down Mairon’s body from his shoulders till they reach his waist and grasped it, a harsh grip sure to bruise. Mairon yelped when Melkor began to move Mairon back into his thrust and grasped the bedspread in a vain attempt to anchor himself. It hurt but the hurt was also a strange sort of pleasure. He moaned when Melkor hit a particular spot inside him that made sparks of pleasure curl through him. With his eyes closed, it was almost as if he’d chosen to do this, and he gave himself into the sensation.

Melkor stilled when he came and withdrew immediately, flopping over to the side and laying on his back.

“Did you enjoy it, Mairon?” Melkor asked. Mairon felt disgusting.

“I’m taking a bath.” Mairon said in lieu of a response. Melkor gripped his arm and pulled him down onto the bed, draping Mairon across his chest.

“Stay.” Melkor said tiredly.

“Your come with dry on me and it will be harder to clean and I will feel even filthier in the morning.” Mairon retorted, trying to rise. Melkor rolled over onto his side, dragging Mairon with him, and managed to get the covers on top of both of them. Melkor’s arms around him were like a cage, keeping him pressed into the Vala. Mairon buried his face in the crook of Melkor’s shoulder and began to cry. It happened again, he’d been violated again, by the Vala he had left everything he had ever know for, and, unlike last time, Melkor was in a mood to linger, to rub in what he had done.

One of Melkor’s hands came to rest in Mairon’s hair, encouraging him to lean into Melkor.

“I’m sorry, little one.” Melkor said, somber. “I didn’t realize how much this hurt you. I won’t do it again.” Mairon wrapped his arms around the Vala and let himself be held.

“Never again, my lord.” He whispered, choking on a sib. “Please, never again.”

“If this is the price, then I will never do it again.” Melkor affirmed.

Mairon couldn’t stop crying for hours afterwards, well into the night. Melkor held him, the contrast between his earlier treatment and his treatment now like night and day. And yet, Mairon couldn’t help but wonder if Melkor would even bother to remember this moment the next time an urge for carnal pleasure overtook him.

He shuddered at the thought, and let the warmth lull him to an uneasy sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm giving myself room for more angsty noncon with that ending there, okay? Gotta keep the vibe going and all that jazz.


End file.
